


Love, wake up

by StripedScribe



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Concussions, Identity Reveal, M/M, Marriage, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:42:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28881912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StripedScribe/pseuds/StripedScribe
Summary: In which Foggy spends far too much of his time waking Matt up, and in the end, Matt has to do the same. A 5 + 1 fic“I couldn’t hate you Fog. Love you.”“Love you too Matty.”
Relationships: Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson & Karen Page, Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter 1

“Pick up, pick up, come on Matt.” He rang again, looking up at the clock, ignoring Karen looking on worriedly. “Don’t make me come over there, you better not be bleeding out.” He tapped a little on his phone, before putting it up to his ear, chewing his lip as it simply beeped at him.

“Okay, I’m going, I’m going. If he’s fine, I’ll bring back breakfast, if not, well, I’ll call you after I call Claire.” Pulling on his coat, he walked out the door, hailing a cab as it passed. The journey was spent repeatedly ringing both of Matt’s phones, anxiety rising as they both continued to ring and go to voicemail. Passing some money to the driver he cursed as he noticed the elevator out of order, and began the climb up the stairs. “You better be here Matty, if you’re bleeding out again you’d better survive so I can kill you myself.”

Letting himself in, his eyes tracked to the sofa, and then around the floor. Empty. No sign of blood, or the devil, or any disturbance. As he padded over to the bedroom, he glanced upstairs, seeing the door closed to the roof.

“Knock knock Matt, you in there?” Sliding the door open, he saw a tangle of blankets, red horns of the suit just poking out. “Matty? You alive in here?” With no response, he moved closer, pulling the blankets down, expecting to see the sheets rich with blood. But they were clean, dry, and in his sleep Matt turned, pulling the sheets back over him.

“Sleepyhead, wake up, are you concussed? Let me check, come on.” He pushed the blankets away again, before gently removing the helmet. Matt’s nose scrunched in annoyance, as he mumbled quietly.

“Didn’t hear that Matt, you gotta speak up.”

“I said, I don’t wanna.”

“That sounds like the voice of someone injured. You’re late to work, and acting like you’ve got a concussion. Let me check, else I’ll call Claire. Did you hit your head last night?”

“’m fine Foggy. Don’t need a hen.” He patted around the bed, grasping the blankets and burying himself again.

“Let me get the suit off you at least, you’re still wearing it all, and the gloves. Did you manage to get the shoes off? You can’t be comfortable like that, let me help.”

“Mhhhhmmmm.” Matt simply groaned, before pushing the blankets off himself and sitting up, eyes still closed.

“What’s got you so tired? You must have hit your head Matty, do you have a concussion?”

“Maybe? Just let me sleep.” He slurred, trying to help Foggy get his gloves off, his fingers unwilling to cooperate.

”Nu-uh, if you’re concussed you’re staying awake. Come on, shoes off too, let’s get you into something more comfortable.” One hand untying the shoes, another quickly sent a text off to Claire ‘Matt’s concussed I think, what do I do? Very sleepy, fell asleep in his suit.’

“Don’ wanna Fog. Let me sleep.” Shoes off, now the difficult bit. Far too many buckles and zippers on the devil suit, and even once he managed to get it undone, Matt was too weak and unwilling to offer any help in actually getting out of it.

Somehow, they managed. And then managed to get him into a hoodie and sweatpants, even whilst Foggy glanced over Matt, checking for any new injuries. “I’m going to check your head Matt, okay?” Running his hands over his head, Foggy couldn’t miss the wince Matt made. “Sore? You definitely got hit there buddy, can you remember what by?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know Fog.” Foggy lowered his hands as Matt snapped, reminding himself, irritability is a sign of concussion, he doesn’t mean it, he needs your help. Needs Claire’s help, but she’s probably working, no reply yet. He couldn’t remember all the signs and treatments of concussions. She’d know, she’s some sort of superhero when it comes to patching Matt back together.

“It’s okay, okay Matty. I got you. You’ll be fine.” Pulling out his phone again, he looked up how to treat a concussion. “Okay, let’s get some ice on that Matt, want any painkillers?” Matt shook his head, looking to want to drop back to the bed.

“I’ll be right back.” Leaving the door wide open, he left to the kitchen, shooting off a quick text to Karen, saying neither would be in for likely the rest of the day. Finding an ice pack in Matt’s freezer, he wrapped it in a towel, grabbing a glass of water and some paracetamol, in case he could persuade Matt to actually take them. “Here Matt, cold pack incoming, lean back against the pillows. You still want to sleep?”

As though to answer, he wriggled, pulling up the blankets to cover his chest. “Sleep.”

“I’ll have to keep waking you up though Matt, don’t hate me.”

“Cldn’t hate you Fog. Love you.”

“Love you too Matty.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait longer to post ch 2, but, boredom, and I crave human interaction... so we're going for daily posts

“Give me your phone.”

“No.” Matt scowled, checking it was still in his pocket. “Why? You’re going to install something ridiculous on it again.”

“You’ve got to admit that was funny.”

“Funny, or terrifying, when my lovely girl had been turned into Fisk, and woke me up at 2am shouting your voice because you’d lost me?”

“To be fair, it was funny,”

“For you at least. What do you want it for?”

“To track you. So that doesn’t happen again, I’m sick of not knowing where you are. Both phones please.”

“To track me?! I’m not some child.”

“Nope, you’re a vigilante prone to head injuries which lead you to forget to let me know you’re safe, which leads me to having to turn up at your house all the time. I promise, on, on my mother’s life, that I will only track you if I’m genuinely worried, and can’t contact you through ringing either of your phones. At least that way I can know in advance if I need to prepare to pull you out a dumpster, or if you’ve at least collapsed at home. And I can send Claire to the right place if you’ve managed to ring her and be incredibly vague before passing out.”

“That was one time Foggy.”

“And you were unconscious on my rooftop! It took us hours to find you. Please, for my sanity, let me put this on your phone. It works both ways, so to know your location I have to be happy for you to know mine, we’ll have to play and see how it works with the accessibility functions, but it should mean you can know where I am too. If your own radar isn’t working to find me.”

“Hmmmm.”

“Please Matt. For all of our sakes, we’ll be less worried if we know when you go missing next we can actually find you.”

“Okay, okay. Um, can you set it up on both of them? I still don’t really know how the burner works, and my phone likes to argue with me enough as it is, and I don’t think I’ll be able to get it to work.” He started rambling, a faint blush working his way up his neck. Embarrassment, Foggy realised, another blow to his need to be able to do everything.

“You trust me to be able to do it? I honestly feel Karen is our best bet here, you know how useless I am with technology. I’m sure our printer’s haunted, and let’s not even talk about the fax machine, I’m sure it only ever breaks with me.”

Matt chuckled, passing over his two phones. “Just those tracker apps Fogs, don’t change her voice or anything like that...”

“Would I do such a thing?” The glare Matt sent was all the answer Foggy would get, before he installed the apps on all three phones. Each time Matt’s spoke he jumped, updating him of what he’d done.

“Okay, done. I don’t think you’d be able to use the burner to find my phone, not without turning on all the accessibility functions, which I doubt you want. But yours, I’ll change some settings and then show you how to do it.”

“Thanks Fogs.”

A brief lesson in how it worked left them both feeling a little safer, even if Matt wouldn’t admit it.

An evening later, and Foggy was more than glad for the tracker. A muffled phone call, that for anyone else he’d think was a pocket dial, if not for it coming from the burner phone. Picking up a first aid kit, he pulled on his coat, and took the quick walk to the tracker. An alleyway, apparently empty besides the open dumpster at the end. A dumpster holding an unconscious Daredevil, which soon stirred on being poked. A slurred voice accompanied the clearly confused movements. 

”Concussion? Blood loss?” Pulling him out, he looked him up and down, noticing the stickiness of blood, leaking from his arm. “Matt, I thought this was stab-proof.”

“Not there. ‘s not so bad.” Roughly wrapping a towel around his arm, and then bundling his coat over the top of the

“C’mon, home. Can we fix you or do we need Claire?”

“’s not deep, jus-, just long.”  
”Okay, chin up, you almost got home. Closer to mine though, and less stairs so we’ll count our lucky stars.”

Out of breath, at the top of the stairs, they fell through the door, Matt making himself at home on the floor. “Nope, come on, upright at least.” An attempt at sitting upright was made, and Foggy wasn’t really sure if it was dramatised or just blood loss. With some manoeuvring, he got him at least leant against the wall, arm in the air to try and slow the bleeding.

”Okay, fluids, get you out of this, and we’ll do some sewing.” Pouring a glass of water, Foggy looked at Matt, and then grabbed a straw as well. “Drink, I’ll get you at least half out of this Matt.”

After the usual fiddle with the zip, Matt’s arms were released from the suit. The gash on his left resumed its attempt at draining all the blood from his body, and Foggy quickly grabbed some clean gauze, applying pressure and holding up Matt’s arm. “Still with me Matt?”

”Mhmm.”

”Painkillers?” All Foggy got was a grunt in response, and a shake of Matt’s head. “Why am I not surprised.” They remained in that odd position for a few minutes, until the bleeding slowed enough for stitches.

”My skills have improved, but you’re still going to end up with a scar. What even got you?”

“Knife. Didn’t realise the kid had it.” His words were getting clearer, even as he seemed to get more tired.

“You getting sloppy?” Slowly, the skin pulled together, slow practised movements with the needle.

“Was too worried ‘bout the gun the other one had. Dodged that.”

“What were they up to?” Foggy tapped his glass, prompting Matt to carry on drinking.

“After a woman. She got away, but they weren’t too impressed with me.”

“And you didn’t just leave then because?”

“Thought I could handle them, scare them a bit.”

“But you made friends with a new dumpster instead.”

“-yes.”

”You hesitated. What else happened?” Foggy wrapped the cut, the white of a clean bandage against blood marked skin. 

“I didn’t think was that bad. Went and broke up a deal before I started to head home, got a bit woozy during that.”

“Matt! We had an agreement, come home when injured, don’t be stupid.”

“Didn’t think it was bad. Sharp knife, clean cut.”

”Matt.”

”I know, I know.”

“You don’t though. What if I hadn’t answered, what if I hadn’t found you?”

”You always find me Fogs.”


	3. Chapter 3

He woke, confused, checking his phone. “Shit.” Still dressed, and sat on the sofa, he realised Matt had never text to say he was home, their new agreement to save stress, especially on the nights they actually spent at each of their own apartments. Ringing the burner, it soon went to answerphone, an automated voice talking, but he knew it was silenced, muted, Matt couldn’t have anyone ringing that mid stakeout. Trying Matt’s, that too went to answerphone.

Worry started to settle in.

Clicking through the apps, he found the tracker for the burner, confusion soon settling in. “Central Park? How? Why?” Matt’s phone pinged from his apartment, so he went there first, in case he had merely lost the burner. Hopefully he’d just lost the burner.

The sun wasn’t quite rising yet, and to him, the city sounded quiet. Calling an uber, he drove the short distance to Matt’s place, not fancying the walk at this time of the morning. Letting himself in, the apartment was empty, Matt’s phone left on the side. The chest for the suit empty, glasses and cane where they belonged. Tidy. Matt hadn’t been home.

Waiting on the doorstep for a taxi, he tried the burner again, listening to it go straight to voicemail again. “Please be with your phone Matt.”

The ride seemed to take too long, an anxious ball settling in his stomach. Checking the app again, the phone hadn’t moved. Had it been binned? Was he on a wild goose chase around New York, and Matt was passed out somewhere else? Had Daredevil been taken, and his phone left behind as some sort of sick clue? What on earth had dragged the Devil out of Hell’s Kitchen, admittedly only to the park, but still out of his territory?

As he left the car, Foggy was thankful the driver wasn’t talkative, he had far too much going around his head to deal with small talk right now. And Matt’s phone, no, Matt, optimism, was still a fair distance away. He contemplated running, before an early runner actually ran past him, their headtorch flashing along the ground, and he decided that would be embarrassing. But Matt.

Walking quickly, he used his torch to cut across the paths, the quickest route. Eyes stuck to the still static dot of Matt’s tracker, he steadily got closer, before spotting a figure on a bench. Laying on a bench. He broke into a run, soon spotting his friend’s face. Unmasked. He was grateful it was dark, so no one would have actually seen Matt, and also that his friend was already blind, as he accidentally shone the torch straight into his face.

“Matt? Wake up, wake up!” He whispered, trying to not startle him, but also still very confused. What had led Matt out here, why wasn’t he wearing his mask, in the middle of Central Park. And why was he so difficult to awaken?

”Leave me ‘lone.” The Daredevil voice in full force, even as he remained laid flat.

“Nope Matt. You’re in the middle of the park, with your mask by your feet, sleeping on a bench. We’re waking up and going home. Are you injured?”

“Not injured, just tired. Don’t want to.” He snapped, arms crossed tighter.

“Surely you’re cold? Yeah, look at you, how long have you been out here for?” Foggy pulled at his arm, trying to persuade him to sit up, to stand up, to make some movements to life. “Hypothermia? Dehydration? Did you eat enough today, or the past few days?”

“Had lunch with you, snacked in the evening.”

“Matt, we had lunch together on Saturday. Its Sunday night, early hours of Monday morning now.”

“Wha-? I must have eaten.” He looked genuinely confused, eyes squinting as he thought through his past few days and meals.

“I thought you were eating properly again now.”

“I was? I, I don’t know.”

“I haven’t got any food on me. Okay, I’m taking your mask, you take my coat, hide the suit there. Don’t think anyone would see the trousers as the suit. Get the hood up, we’ll find a taxi.” He bundled him up, looping their arms together.

“Fogs?”

“Yeah buddy? Come on.” He softly pulled him along, towards the entrance of the park.

Matt’s voice worryingly slurred and sleepy, he let himself be dragged along. “I love you, you know that right?”

“I love you too Matt. But we gotta get you home, get some food in you.”


	4. Chapter 4

It was only supposed to be a quick walk home, to pick up forgotten files. But it was an hour later, and his phone kept ringing and ringing, going to voicemail. Foggy hadn’t noticed any injuries, he hadn’t been holding himself oddly, or trying to hide bandages. He’d come home at a sensible time last night, trying to sneak into their bed, but his cold feet had woken Foggy. He’d seemed happy, fine, laughing at himself for managing to take home both copies of the Slater case, and then leaving them there. It was only supposed to a quick walk, get them all a coffee on the way home, bring back the files.

And, it wasn’t that Foggy and Karen were born worriers. But they were worrying. Images of injuries flashed through Foggy’s mind as he was driven home, an eye on the pavement, looking for any commotion, a group surrounding a blind man who’d collapsed. An ambulance, any sign of him not having had made it home. Too late, in his stress he remembered the tracker, both pings ringing out from the apartment. He’d made it home, at least. He was sure he’d eaten properly, shouldn’t be sleepy from a lack of food, low blood sugar, anaemia, dehydration. Living together, they’d pushed each other to eat healthier, to eat correctly. There was still some level of glee in Foggy’s voice when he could say ‘our apartment’, when they curled into each other on the couch, talking work, or talking about nothing at all.

He cursed the sign on the elevator announcing it to be broken, yet again, and began the trek upstairs. The door unlocked, he soon found Matt. Looking, thankfully, to be just sleeping, sprawled on the couch, his phone on the side.

“Matt?” He whispered, he clearly was out of it if he hadn’t heard Foggy come in. “Matt, love, wake up.”

And with all the noises of a confused middle aged man, he awoke. “Wha’s going on?”

“You fell asleep Matty. Come on, get out of that suit and into something more comfortable, you’re taking a half day.” His partner awake now, he moved closer, no risk of being punched by a sleepfighting Matt.

“’m fine.” He fixed his askew glasses, pulling himself up into a more seated position, trying to blink away the tiredness.

“You’re not fine Matt, you’re allowed to be tired. You came home early last night, thought it was a quiet one?”

He yawned, “I jus’ didn’t sleep well. Bad dreams.”

“Oh Matty. Come on, half day, have a proper nap. Would you like me to stay? The files are here, I can work on them and keep you company, I’ll let Karen lock up and take the afternoon off as well. Take a rest.”

“Please.” The word was a mere whisper, but one Foggy expected, Matt had said before he slept better with familiar sounds around him. And so he allowed himself to be led to bed, shoes removed, clothes swapped for PJs, and ushered under the covers.

“Rest Matty, I’m not going anywhere.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't almost forget today's chapter, of course not....

The tie around his neck was uncomfortable, the starch pressed white shirt scratching against his neck. Beside him, Matt had slowly been leaning more and more, murmuring stories about the people surrounding them, and listening as Foggy described everyone’s outfits. It was a reunion celebration, for Columbia students, their lecturers producing speeches recognising students that had once attended, and what they had gone on to do. In typical Columbia fashion, they’d neglected to send a braille copy of events, and so Foggy had the only version. He had, accidentally, forgotten to mention to Matt, that they were due to be mentioned in the speeches, but declined on both of their behalves, the offer to stand up and speak themselves. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than getting up and speaking in front of all their old classmates.

He wasn’t expecting Matt to have fallen asleep halfway through the speeches though. Behind the glasses, his eyes were drifting shut, as more of his weight rested on Foggy. The subtle jabs to his side were doing little to wake him up, “I’m just resting my eyes Fogs, I’m blind, it’s fine, this is boring.”

“You might want to listen to the next bit.” He glanced down at the schedule in front of them, highlighting their graduation year.

“Hmm?”

“It’s our year, you reckon we’ll get a mention?”

“Uh, maybe, for Fisk?” Up on the stage, Foggy watched one of their old lecturers scanning the crowd, landing on their table. Marci sat opposite them, alongside more of their old classmates, who’d all perked up a little as they realised it was their year. The speaker started with listing all their names, congratulating on graduating all those years ago, and passing on wishes about their current lives, and their futures. Mentions of their classmates, the law practices they’d joined or started.

“I cannot begin to tell you how proud we are, of all of our students, for the lives they have gone on to live after graduating. It’s no lie, that we all remember your names, and look you up occasionally, to see what good you are in doing in the world. And it’s even easier when they get themselves into the news, after starting their own offices, and taking down Wilson Fisk in Hell’s Kitchen. Nelson and Murdock turned down the offer to come up on stage, but I’ve seen them there in the crowd, and thank them for all the work they’re doing in their corner of the world. They were great students, and friends, and now run their own office, as partners. I also hear there’s a wedding coming up in the future, so nows our time to try and get onto that guest list.” The guests laughed, and Foggy whispered to Matt.

“Lets hope we don’t get any gate crashers.” His partner merely smiled back, a smile that Foggy could never bore of seeing. The speakers carried on, talking about the next graduating year. It was a big event, 3 years worth of graduates, in a room together. They’d had a filling and delicious meal, devoted to catching up with classmates, tables assigned to years, or halls, or classes, familiar faces, or voices, around them. Talking to old neighbours, old friends, people who they used to spend every day with, and who are now just old memories.

It was a little bit magical to see and hear where everyone had all ended up. Most following on with Law, ending up working within big or small offices, for defence, for prosecution, for family. This who ended up in a different career, doing things they could have never imagined. Classmates who have fallen in love, their plus ones adding new people to the mix, or those that had stayed in love with someone they met in Columbia. Stories of families, of new friends, new colleagues. Sharing cases, as much as client privilege would allow. It was nice, but surreal, and a little overwhelming. In college, it was easier, they never had all these people in the same room. They were caught by old teachers, which still felt weird, a power imbalance they didn’t know how to deal with, invitations to call them by their first name which would never be right.

Matt and Foggy soon made their escape, arm in arm out into the cold to an awaiting taxi. “You knew about them talking about us? You weren’t surprised. And he said about turning down an offer.”

“They wanted us to speak, I declined it on our behalf. I know you wouldn’t want to, and I didn’t either.”

“By letter?” His tone, still soft, had turned a little sharper, a little more annoyed.

“Yes. It wasn’t accessible.” Foggy ran a hand through his hair, loosening the still too tight tie around his neck. “God that sounds so shitty of me, I should have told you before. I didn’t want you to get all stressed about it beforehand, that they would be mentioning us. I know you’re one for little attention, I really didn’t realise they were going to mention the wedding though.”

“It’s fine, you’re right, I might have got worried about it too much.”

“I should have told you Matt. They sent us both printed letters, I saw neither were braille so opened them both. I should have read it to you, or you could have used your phone. At the time I thought I was protecting you, but that was awful of me. They said in advance they would mention us, and asked if we wanted time to say anything, and the rest I told you about, the dress code, date etcetera.”

“It’s okay, I forgive you Fogs.”

“I won’t do it again. We’re supposed to be building this relationship on trust. No secrets, from both of us.”

The taxi slowed, dropping them off outside the apartment. Money quickly passed over, they walked together upstairs, talking all the while. “Do you want to know the gossip I probably shouldn’t have heard?”


	6. Chapter 6

The wedding had been wonderful. A small ceremony, held in Clinton Church, with a promise for a celebration with all the Nelsons in the future. It hadn’t made sense, financially to begin with, to have that many people. And there were a lot of Nelsons, it’d overpower Matt, and his family. But a simple wedding, with their closest mutual friends, Foggy’s parents, Maggie. A meal after, and then chance for the newly married couple to escape back to their own home. A honeymoon would come later, when they could close down the office for a week or so.

They’d debated their surnames for a while. Trying to decide whether to change them, to choose one, or to barrel them. And then, in which order. But as they’d always know, Nelson-Murdock sounded better, and received the blessing from their parents. This then resulted in a day which sounded like hell, trying to get everything changed. Neither realised quite how much this would be, from banks, to social security numbers, insurance, rent contracts. As lawyers, they thought it would be easy enough, but nothing in their life ever was easy. Eager to get booking a honeymoon, Matt was applying for his passport as well, the aim of trying to do all their paperwork in the same day.

Which had led them to the office they were in now. Matt waiting outside whilst Foggy changed his details on his passport, answering the many questions associated. As he came out, murmured words, “She’s nicer than she sounds, I think.” and then louder. “The chairs right in front of you as you go in Matt.”

Matt tapped his way into the office, hand running over the back of the chair as the lady encouraged him to take a seat. In his hands, all the paperwork to get his passport. He wished that all these things could have been done at home, where they could work through it together, but at the same time, knew the risks that came with people having their names changed. Placing down the paperwork, he folded up his cane, clutching it in his hand.

“Afternoon Mr Murdock. Nothing to worry about, we’ll just go through some questions to check you are who you say, before we can get this passport approved. Then it’ll be with you in a few weeks.

“Okay.” He could already tell what Foggy meant by only thinking she was nice. Murdock-Nelson, he was thinking, he’d only spent hours getting it changed everywhere, he wanted to use his husband’s name . It didn’t seem the right place to argue it though.

“Recently married then?”

“A few days ago, we were waiting for the summer. I proposed last Christmas.”

“Hmm I see. You live together already?”

“Yes, we have done for a while, just my names on the lease though. We are thinking of moving somewhere else now we’re married, somewhere bigger.” He knew his answers were echoing Foggy’s, having listened in when he was being questioned. It definitely felt like an interrogation room, as though he was fighting to get this passport. And as she scribbled down words he couldn’t see, he began to feel more and more uncomfortable.

“You’ve got your paperwork all there?”

“Yes, should be everything we need. My partner had to get printed versions so I’m afraid I can’t point out which is which for you.”

The lady huffed, grabbing the paperwork. Matt realised she’d never introduced herself, to Foggy either. He imagined she might be wearing a name badge, or perhaps it was on the table, or door. Absently he found himself twisting his ring around his finger.

“These all look to be in order.” There was something in her tone, confusion.

“Is everything alright?” She carried to scribble, before clacking away on her computer, long sounding nails against keys and buttons. There was some level of impatience in her actions, and she sighed repeatedly.

“Yes. Just checking something further here. You’ve never travelled before?”

All these questions, they grated on him. He felt like she was trying to trip him up, that there was a wrong answer, no matter what she’d said before. “Couldn’t afford to. Never really fancied it either, didn’t have much in the way of family to take me for a while, and then there’s the cost of it. Thought a honeymoon was as good a time as any to explore the world a bit more.”

“Got anywhere in mind?”

“Not sure. Foggy - my husband, has always wanted to travel, so I think he’s got a possible agenda in mind. Niagara falls perhaps, not too far, and I hear it’s beautiful there.”

“Quite touristy though.”

“We’d probably go in the off season anyway.”

She gathered his documents back up, tapping them together with a little more force than required. There was still something not right, something she was eager to say.

“You’re safe, at home? You’re getting this on your own will? I noticed you’ve got no family, it’s just you and your partner.”

“Yes. I’ve got some pseudo-family, in the ways of fosters from the orphanage that I stay in contact with, one who I’d happily call my mother. And I’m very close to Foggy’s family.”

“He’s not forcing you to travel, to go abroad?”

“No! I don’t understand what you mean. We’re adults, we’re married, and we want to travel. That’s all that’s going on here. I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, or find.” The devil in the back of his mind knew, whispering words. He ignored it, trying to see the positives, convince himself it was always this thorough. Foggy’s wasn’t, but his was a simple name change, he’d been through all of this before more than likely, when he applied for his own passport. He knew that they were strict, especially on adults getting their first passports, and that these interviews were common, nothing to worry about.

“I just struggled to believe that someone like you could get married.”

Matt felt the devil again, a now warranted anger. “Someone like me?”

“I was expecting to have to deal with a trafficking case, when I saw you were disabled.” Her voice a warped mix of pity and anger. And almost disappointment, that she didn’t get the anger, didn’t get the excitement she was looking for.

“Because I’m blind, I shouldn’t travel?” His voice was quiet, calm, but inside the fury raged. The voice of a lawyer, fighting in court. “Because I’m disabled, I don’t deserve to get married, to have a family?”

“Well, yes. What a waste of money to spend going elsewhere. A tie to your husband, he’ll have to look after you.”

“Look after me.” His tone flat, hands clenched around his folded cane. “I have not fought my way through this life to be told by you, you who didn’t even see fit to introduce yourself, that I am not worthy of my husband, that I am not worthy a life.”

“I don’t think it’ll be worth you going abroad.”

“You’re going to deny me my passport?” This was court, this was fighting the opposition. This wasn’t Daredevil fighting a criminal. This was calm voice, calm anger, the quiet of a storm.

“It’s not fair on your partner. He’d have a much happier time on his own. Even having to bring you here today, it’s such a tie. He must truly pity you, to say yes to marrying you.”

“Pity. Pity me.” He took a deep breath. “Will you approve my passport, or do I have to fight further on this?”

She typed away, ignoring him for a minute. “It’s really not fair on him.”

“Why?”

“He’s a lawyer, he could do so much better.”

He stopped, words falling from his mind in confusion. “Did you miss the part on my forms where we’re partners in the same law office? Where we went to the same college, to learn law, and now own our business together? Where I have been blind, since 9, and somehow, I’m still alive, and you’ve got nowhere registered that I need care? And that the only reason Foggy is here with me today, is that he had to come to the same office, and your receptionist was kind enough to just book us back to back appointments? Or that it’s against the Disabilities Act, to deny me a passport, because you pity me, or think I’m undeserving of one?” He’d been careful, and his voice had stayed level. Nothing to alert anyone, nothing to threaten her. Just questions. Just reminders.

“Well.” He could hear her voice catch, the evidence of her disbelief.

“I think you’ll find everything there is in order. If not, there’s a possibility I’ll be speaking to someone else, to see if they can actually help me get a passport.”

“No, I, I’ll get it all approved for you. Your paperwork is just in front of you on the table there.” She clacked away again, one final click signifying what he hoped was his approval. Collecting his paperwork, he unfolded his cane. “It’ll be with you in a couple of weeks. Give us a call if it’s reached three weeks with no sign and we’ll chase it up for you.”

“Thank you.” He left the office, breathing away his stress, so as to not alert, or worry Foggy. Who was passed out, oblivious to it all, sat in the corner on a chair. Clicking the door to the office closed behind him, he had no choice but to call out.

“Fogs?” He slumbered on, for once not living up to his namesake, and sleeping quietly. If he was snoring, Matt could find him even without the supersenses. Instead he tapped over towards the desk, soon greeted by the receptionist.

“Um, my husband, did he leave?” He hated playing up the blind card, but it was even more important if they were going to receive a sharply worded email later, cursing them for their inappropriate members of staff.

“Oh. Oh, no of course. Um, he’s fallen asleep in the corner.” She sounded embarrassed, for both of their sakes.

“Of course he has. Which one?”

“Where you’re facing me now, to your 4 o’clock.” She was, incredibly helpful. “Probably about 7 steps for you? Would you like me to go get him?”

“Oh thank you, that’s very kind, I’m sure I’ll manage though. Let me just check though, there’s no one sat near him? Before I go and rudely wake him up?”

“No one else in the room right now sir.”

“Thank you very much! Sorry, what was your name?”

“Oh, Elise sir.”

“Lovely, thanks for your help Elise! Now excuse me whilst I wake my husband and get us both out the way.”

Turning around, he mentally mapped out Elise’s directions, finding them to be spot on, the pile of warmth and breathing in the corner clearly Foggy. And so he tapped closer to him, stopping about a pace away.

“Franklin!” He said sharply, laughing at the resulting flurry of movement. “You’re falling asleep in front of lovely young ladies who I’m sure have better things to worry about than your naps.”

“You were so long though Matt. And these chairs are deceptively comfy. I was up late fighting with the printer remember?” He stood up, stretching the clicks out of his back with a sigh.

“I do, I expect the whole of the Kitchen knows about your fight with the printer. I’m all sorted, should be a couple of weeks, then we can get to booking this honeymoon.”

“Lead on Mr Murdock-Nelson.” Matt passed over his paperwork to Foggy, who put them back together with his own and into a folder, which was dropped back into Matt’s satchel.

“Wait, Murdock-Nelson. Fogs you better have put the right name down.” He was just met with laughter, as they walked out of the offices. “Foggy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Karen, humour me, Foggy’s bullying me. Could you please check my surname. No, no don’t laugh, he keeps calling me Murdock-Nelson, and we debated this for hours, and I honestly can’t work out if he’s joking.”


End file.
